WhoLock: Travels In Time
by Convention of Distraction
Summary: Sherlock and John knew they were in for a world of trouble when they met the Doctor and his TARDIS, but they never foresaw the adventure and mystery on a seemingly ordinary alien planet. * In-progress, will definitely complete.*
1. Chapter 1 The Beginning

**WhoLock: Travels In Time**

_**Just a quick summary for what this series will be like**: Sherlock and John discover the _TARDIS_ when the Doctor offers to take them on as companions (he seems to have misplaced Clara at the moment) so that they can adventure with him in Time and Space. Feedback is always nice. **Disclaimer**: I don't own Sherlock/Doctor Who. _

_**~The Beginning~ **_

John Watson was a smart man. Not a genius, no. That was reserved for his flat mate, Sherlock Holmes. But it could be said he was sensible and understood most situations that many would call bizarre. It was his job as an assistant to a consulting detective. Yet when he returned to his home at 221 B Baker Street, and found Sherlock researching the solar system, his mind went blank.

"W-what… Are you studying the planets? I thought you didn't believe in that 'nonsense.'"

Sherlock spun around in his seat to face John. His dark brows furrowed over his eyes.

"John, do you believe in… _aliens_?"

John stared back into the eyes of a genius, trying to tell if it was a joke of some kind. He chuckled. When he saw that Sherlock's expression hadn't budged, he grew serious again, and sat down in the chair opposite.

"Jesus, Sherlock, what have you been taking this time?! I hope you're not dealing with that bloke down the street!"

"No, not anymore, he moved to Sweden, but that isn't the point. A...strange man came here today, saying he wanted me to find his friend."

"Mm…hmm. When do the aliens come into this story?"

"Well, come take a look." Sherlock stood up from his seat, grabbed his signature coat, and walked out of the room. John sighed and stared up at the ceiling, but chased after him anyway.

"Honestly Sherlock," he said as he followed his friend down the stairs, "what is going on with you today? You've bloody gone insane!"

Sherlock practically laughed, and mocked, "Oh no, John. I've always been insane. Also, I'm surprised you didn't bump into it on your way here." Reaching the entry way he swung the door open, motioning outside. "Go on. What do you see?"

John stepped out onto Baker Street. There was no one there. Turning slowly to Sherlock he replied, "Nothing?"

"Humans are such blundering idiots_," _Sherlock scoffed. He strode down the sidewalk for a bit, and paused. He then proceeded to knock the air. However it _wasn't_ air, as it made a noise… a noise like hollow wood.

"Welcome, John…"

John Watson stood, dumbfounded, as a blue telephone box slowly started to appear.

"To the _TARDIS_."


	2. Chapter 2 Inside the TARDIS

~ _**Inside the TARDIS**_~

John Watson staggered back and pinched himself. "I must be dreaming…"

Sherlock laughed; content with the surprise he'd caused his friend. He knocked again, lightly this time, as if inspecting the wood.

"Sherlock… _please_ tell me I'm dreaming!"

"John, I'd be lying if I told you this was a dream. It is quite the opposite in fact. The TARDIS is the realest thing you will ever encounter."

John slowly circled the blue call box. He poked, tapped, and knocked every part of it until he was sure it was real. Sherlock eyed him with interest the entire time.

"Well… it's certainly compelling. Can we see the inside?"

Sherlock's lips twitched in amusement. "I thought you'd never ask…"

* * *

><p>"You've <em>got<em> to be joking." The inside of the TARDIS was immense, and John felt quite small inside of it.

"Expecting something smaller?" Sherlock smirked. "I wasn't about to bring you into an actual call box, you idiot."

John slowly walked up the metal stairs to the center of the room. There seemed to be a circular dashboard of sorts, with many different buttons. He felt the urge to push one, but someone called out before he could do so.

"Stop!"

John turned and looked at the owner of the voice. A man stood there, tall, gangly, with disheveled hair upon which sat a brilliant red fez.

"Do. Not. Touch. The button."

John looked at Sherlock, and then at the newcomer. In a nervous voice he asked, "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

Sherlock intervened and stepped between the two of them. "John, this is the Doctor. The man I spoke of earlier."

John flushed slightly. "Oh. Well, hullo. _Doctor_."

"You don't seem that surprised about the TARDIS," the Doctor noted, shaking John's hand enthusiastically, "Most people usually are."

John let go of the Doctor's firm grip before his hand could fall off. "Well, to be honest, I think I'm in shock."

Leaving Sherlock and the Doctor to whisper about a missing girl, John leaned against the dashboard, and pressed his fingers to his temples. He secretly hoped this would ease the confusion on his mind. Suddenly, overwhelmed with anxiety and frustration, he collapsed and blacked out out onto the cold floor of the spaceship, but not without first hearing a whispered name: "_Clara_."


	3. Chapter 3 The Awakening

~_**The Awakening**_~**_  
><em>**

"John. Can you hear me?" John was faintly aware of a voice at his ear, urging him to wake up. He waved his hand at it, hoping the voice would shut up soon.

"Oh no you don't. Get _up!" _John suddenly bent up out of sleep, stiff as a board, and felt his face tingle in hot, wet pain. He looked at Sherlock, who was standing over him with a cup of coffee. Or, what remained.

"Well, that seemed to do the trick."

"Please don't ever do-was that _hot coffee_?"

"Yes, why? Would you like a cup?" Sherlock strode into the kitchen barefoot, and rummaged around in the cabinets. Meanwhile, John slowly wiped his face with the blanket that had been draped over him. He tried to stand up but found that the waves of nausea weren't permitting him to. Sherlock returned with a saucer and cup of black coffee, shamelessly dumping them onto John's lap.

"What happened? I remember blacking out. And a fez…"

"Ah, that. Well, I brought you to the Doctor and you arced-over-tit." Sherlock picked at the dark-colored bathrobe he was wearing.

"Oh, yes. The 'alien.' You really had me going with that illusion! What, did you have me plastered before introducing me to some stranger in a costume? He didn't even_ look _like an alien."

"Don't be daft, not all aliens are green and have eight fingers! Just a day ago I was like you, my mind trying to find some possible resolution or explanation. But there is _nothing_. Do you understand, John? For the first time in my life, I have no explanation except for what I am seeing and what that supposed 'Doctor' is telling me."

John stared long and hard at Sherlock. Somewhere in his mind, a small voice was telling him that this story could be nothing but rubbish. Yet the truth in the pair of eyes looking back told him otherwise. Somehow, the both of them had landed in something akin to a science fiction television show. And, as Sherlock had said, there was no explanation. There never would be.

"Well, well," his voice was hoarse with the weight of the truth. "Sherlock Holmes believes in the impossible."


	4. Chapter 4 Commissioned Mission

~ _**Commissioned Mission**_~

"I can finally relax," murmured John as he stepped into the shower. He'd felt icky after having coffee spilt (or, to better put it, thrown) in his hair and face. Hot water had just started to come out of the showerhead when he heard a whooshing sound coming from behind the shower curtain. It couldn't possibly be the plumbing; they'd fixed it last week!

Filled with curiosity, he stuck his head out, and almost immediately regretted it. Coming out of the TARDIS was the Doctor; bow tie, fez, and all. He turned and, realizing that he'd just interrupted John's shower, covered his eyes with his hands.

"Oh, goodness. Sorry about…_that_. I didn't realize that the TARDIS would bring me here so, uh, I'll just take a quick visit to somewhere else." He fumbled around for the latch to the TARDIS and stepped inside.

At this moment, John realized that his mouth was slowly filling with water. He coughed and spit up what he thought was water and bile. What had just happened? He would have to talk to Sherlock about their crazy commissioner.

The Doctor stuck his head out once more -eyes still covered- and said, "By the way, lovely shade of purple, those towels."

Exasperated, John yelled back through the pounding of water. "They're_ blue!_"

* * *

><p>Sherlock was making toast when he heard the swooshing sound that came with the arrival of the TARDIS. He didn't need to look back to know who was standing there.<p>

"Oh. Hello Sherlock. Your boyfriend was in the shower, and I don't think he's too happy about my walking in on him." The Doctor played around with a skull that had been sitting on top of a stack of cookbooks.

Sherlock slowly placed the butter knife on the counter before he could do any damage. "He's not my boyfriend. He goes on dates, in fact. With women."

The Doctor flicked a bag of teeth from a chair at the dining table and sat on the edge. He watched Sherlock prepare the toast for a moment, and then, continuing the conversation, said, " I've kissed my fair share of men. Well, man. Well, ok, Rory."

Sherlock smiled sarcastically. "Oh?"

The Doctor chuckled. "I've been thinking about our little mission, and we should probably start right away. We don't want to find an angry Clara."

"Well, you were late today." Sherlock remarked.

"I'm a Time lord. I'm never late. And I have a TARDIS."

John walked into the room; hair dripping all over the kitchen tiles, and sat at the table. He made a show of not looking at the Doctor.

"Is it always this quiet?" the Doctor asked.

Sherlock shrugged and sat on the counter, tranquilly eating his badly burnt toast.

"We have a door. You don't have to come in via blue telephone box." John motioned to the TARDIS.

The Doctor scrunched up his face as if he'd tasted something bitter. "I'm not a fan of doors. Now walls! Great day for fans of walls." He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, took a bite, and then spit it up on the table. "How horrid! Anyways, I think it's a lovely day for exploring, and as my new companions, you are coming with me to find my last companion." He saw John's confused face and tried to summarize best he could:

"Companion joins me, I sometimes lose said companion, and then need brilliant logical mind to find companion." He winked at Sherlock, " Today, we are going to go to the planet Arcateen V. Or Avalon. I know it was one or the other that I visited with Clara. After that, you are free to come back to your lovely..." He looked around the apartment with its bullet-riddled walls, lab equipment, and stacks of papers. "...home."


	5. Chapter 5 Companion Rules

~ _**Companion Rules **_~

"Are you sure this is where the Doctor said he'd meet us?" John queried, watching as Sherlock paced the graveled path of the Cavendish Square Gardens.

"Of course. Is it noon yet?"

"You asked that two minutes ago." John sat down on one of the benches, and inhaled the fresh summer air. He noticed a hand waving at him from behind a tree, and went to investigate. "Doctor? Why are you dressed like that?"

The Doctor took off the black sunglasses he'd been wearing and whispered, "I'm incognito…" He put a finger to his lips in a _hush- hush_ motion.

"Well, you are failing miserably." Sherlock had arrived to the tree, tapping his foot in impatience.

"Keep you voice down, eh? We don't want to attract attention to ourselves."

"Yes, because three men walking into a magical blue box- one of them wearing a fez and sunglasses- is sure not to attract attention in_ total daylight_." John replied sarcastically.

* * *

><p>The inside of the TARDIS was colder than usual, and a sort of blue aura could be seen coming off the walls.<p>

The Doctor walked around, tapping the stairs, lifting metal latches, pressing a few buttons. Finally, as if diagnosing a patient, he turned to his two new companions and said "Well, she's ill."

John looked –confused- at the doctor, while Sherlock walked back and forth across the diameter of the TARDIS. "What do you mean 'she's ill'?" Sherlock inquired. "It's a machine, for goodness sake!"

The TARDIS groaned and creaked, as if it was protesting. The Doctor scoffed loudly, and motioned to the console. "She's not doing so well. 1000 years of time and space, you start to get under the weather. How about a visit to the pool?" He sprang up in renewed energy, lifted one of the metal grates surrounding the console, and jumped down into a room that glowed yellow and green.

Sherlock stopped and looked over the edge of the open grate. "You have a pool here?"

"Yes, the TARDIS is a bioship, and infinite in size. It's a planet and galaxy within itself, powered by a suspended black hole, but I won't go into detail for your small human minds."

Sherlock sniffed at this remark, as if his intelligence had been personally tainted. Without turning around he announced "Shut up, John, I can hear you laughing." The chuckling at the entrance of the console room stopped.

"Ah, here we are then!" The Doctor climbed up and out of the opening, holding in his hands a set of swim trunks. John groaned inwardly to himself as he saw them.

"You don't happen to have any trunks that aren't the color pink, do you?" Sherlock asked, wary of the flashy swimming shorts.

The Doctor smiled, totally unaware of their growing discomfort. "'Will purple do?"

* * *

><p>The swimming pool was warm, with the walls covered in bookshelves all the way to the ceiling. It would have been relaxing if the Doctor hadn't insisted on listing off the rules that applied to all his companions.<p>

"So. Firstly, don't wander off. It makes me feel like a bad tour guide when companions need to explore by themselves. They don't understand how tiring it is to run here and there. But you two don't seem like the running type," the Doctor noted cheerfully.

"Thank you?"

"We do plenty of running."

The Doctor looked at them. " You two are polar opposites. Well, onto rule number three. Or are we on two? Doesn't matter. Anyways, know that I lie. Also there will be no apple eating onboard the TARDIS. No apple pie, apple sauce, or bob-for-apples."

"Well, you take the saying quite literally," joked John.

The other two looked at him as if he'd grown a third eye.

"Alright, so, I'll need to describe Clara to you if we want to rescue her. She's short, and feisty. Brown hair. Not much of a fashion sense." The Doctor looked over at his fez and smiled.

"So," John summed up, "short, brunette, and feisty."

"Sounds like all women." Sherlock added bitterly. "Where is the last place you saw her?"

"Well… it was a bird market- not regular earth birds, mind you- and Clara said she was going to buy some food. I didn't see her after that. I do believe we were on the planet Avalon." The Doctor sighed theatrically, and hopped up onto the edge of the pool. "Your room is two doors down from here. I'm off to Bedfordshire!"

"We're _sharing_ a room?" John asked incredulously.

"Don't worry," the Doctor picked up his fez from a bookshelf nearby, "it's bunk beds."


	6. Chapter 6 The Bird Market

~ _**The Bird Market**_ ~

_Flashback before the main events of Wholock: Travels in Time_

"Ah, here we are!" The Doctor happily jumped out of the TARDIS onto a paved path, with brick and stone shops lining the street.

Clara stuck her head out. "Are you sure this is the correct place, Doctor?" She was carrying an old camera, hoping to get a few shots of the setting suns of Helios.

"I'm 99.9% sure this is _not_ the right place, but I hear strange birds, so let's stay!" He clapped his hands, and the doors of the TARDIS shut close.

* * *

><p>They followed the sounds of the city square, hoping it would lead to the birds.<p>

"Step right up, step right up, we have here a sale on our wonderful pigeons; buy, buy, buy!" People all around bustled to the Bird Market, chattering away excitedly.

Clara seemed amused, "Why would anyone buy a pigeon on an alien planet? They're free on Earth." The pair turned a corner and her jaw dropped.

In front of her were birdcages she'd seen when she was little, but multiplied in size hundreds of times. The cages seemed to be made of twined silver, and dug deep into the earth as reinforcement. Though the cages by themselves were beautiful, it was the birds that really caught her attention. They had colors of plumage she had never seen -yet she now knew existed- and precious metal for beaks and claws. The birds were large, but they stayed on their perch, singing notes tinged with bittersweet memories of when they were free.

"Marvelous!" The Doctor stared at the angelic birds in awe. The man selling one of the large ravens pointed at a sign, stating the amount of money for the extremely expensive creatures.

"Do you have enough money for a marvelous bird?" she whispered sideways.

"Not nearly enough" he muttered back. They straightened themselves and walked towards one of the cages. A poster was leaning against the side. It read in large letters: DO NOT FEED YOURSELF TO BIRDS. The giant macaw inside cocked his head and looked at Clara as if wondering how she would taste. The Doctor had headed over to one of the stands nearby, and she slowly backed away. The bird's eyes followed her.

"Bad bird." She shooed her hands at it and ran up to the Doctor. He was bargaining the price of a bobble head.

"Hello Clara! Just doing a bit of souvenir shopping."

"Oh, wonderful. Do you know of any food stands? I'm famished."

The Doctor turned to the alien occupying the shop and asked for the nearest stand.

"He doesn't know, but he gave us a map to find out." He handed the map to Clara who put it in her jacket pocket. "Meet back in an hour?"

"Sure…" The Doctor turned away from her, and she looked around the store corner. She had felt someone's eyes bore into her back. Shivering, Clara walked away from the souvenir shop.

She never saw the shadow follow her.


	7. Chapter 7 The First Planet

~ _**The First Planet**_ ~

"You mean you think she was being followed?" John watched Sherlock fold origami. They were still onboard the TARDIS, yet they hadn't left their room since the previous night.

"No, I mean I _know_ she was being followed. How else does a girl go missing in space? She didn't have a ride back if she decided to go exploring by herself. That means she wasn't running away from the Doctor, but from a person following her." He placed another neatly folded paper crane on top of his bed.

"So… secret admirer turned crazy?"

"Aliens, John."

"Human slave trade?"

"It's a Bird Market. For aliens."

"Ok, then, stalker."

Sherlock sighed and turned his focus from the origami to John. "Look, we have to realize that this case is different from any we may have had before. We have aliens involved, as well as giant bird markets. We need a new approach."

"So… what do you suggest?"

* * *

><p>The Doctor was lounging on a chair below the console room when he heard his companions shuffle around above. Delighted for company, he put on his bow tie and climbed out of the opening in the console room floor. "Hello! How are my two favorite male companions of the human race?"<p>

"We need you to bring us to the Bird Market. Now." Sherlock replied.

"Uh, please.' John added briefly.

The Doctor looked up at the ceiling of the TARDIS. "I suppose. She doesn't seem as ill anymore. Later, though, because I'm hungry. I choose where we eat."

* * *

><p>Thus they ended up on Earth, at a Starbucks in London. A group of college-aged girls were looking at the Doctor and giggling.<p>

"He gets along with the ladies." John remarked as he drank a large coffee.

Sherlock stirred some sugar in his drink, and didn't even bother looking up. "I detest adolescents…"

The Doctor came back to their table in the corner and smiled at the both of them. "One of the many reasons I enjoy London. Loads of Starbucks, and loads of people."

Sherlock was looking deep into his cup as if it held all the answers of the universe. "Starbucks. Star. Bucks. What does it _mean?_"

John chuckled into his mug. "Are you talking about the café or the case?"

"Very funny, John."

They all sat in silence until they'd finished their drinks. They had cleaned up after themselves and were about to walk out of the shop when John stopped them.

"What is it, John? You're blocking the door." Sherlock tried to look around to what was keeping John's attention. On the tiled floor in front of the entrance was a business card on creamy white stock paper. Slowly picking it up, John read aloud to the other two, "Bad Wolf Businesses. Contact us. Doctor." He showed the other two, and noted the Doctor's ashen face. There was a phone number beneath the writing, but John didn't have the chance to read it as the Doctor quickly took the card and ripped it. "Come on, we can't dilly-dally all day in coffee shops. We need to find Clara."

* * *

><p>They were all back in the TARDIS, and had landed on what they assumed was the Bird Market planet.<em> Avalon<em>, as the Doctor called it. Before Sherlock could start looking for clues, however, The Doctor had listed off what they could or could not do.

"We cannot separate. It is important that you two stick with me, or you troublemakers could find yourselves behind bars. Mind you, some alien planets have stricter regulations and laws than Earth. Find anything, anything at all, tell me right away."

The Doctor strode to the door, and slowly opened it. The two detectives looked in awe as the sight of another world came to view.

"Welcome to your first alien planet."


	8. Chapter 8 Doctor Clue

~ _**Doctor Clue**_ ~

The sun was low in the sky when they stepped out of the TARDIS. They had gone back in time, and it would soon be dusk. John looked around and almost fell back in surprise when he bumped into an alien. The inhabitants of Avalon weren't very different from humans, except for their vividly colored hair and metallic skin. The one John had almost been knocked over by was female, with bright blue hair and a shiny jade face. She cursed at him and pushed around Sherlock who had come to investigate.

"Well the natives aren't all that friendly. How come they speak English here, Doctor?"

The Doctor turned, his sonic screwdriver buzzing in his hands. "It's the TARDIS. Complicated to explain, but she translates for you and the alien. You can speak, and they understand."

"Brilliant." Sherlock looked back at the TARDIS, which none of the Avalonians seemed to notice.

"Yes, very. We should head to the Bird Market, that'll be the last place I saw her."

* * *

><p>The Bird Market wasn't as busy as it had been the last time the Doctor was there. He had to pry his two companions away from the birdcages before they could voluntarily jump into the singing birds' beaks.<p>

John walked over to the souvenir shop, leaving Sherlock to question the Doctor some more.

"Did she leave you here and go somewhere else?"

"No… actually, come to think of it, she _did _mention going to look for food. I searched around for her, but there was nothing. No lead, or not any that I would have noticed."

"Strange…" Sherlock searched the dirt ground around the buildings. "Why haven't you gone back in time to stop her from leaving?"

"Revisiting the past is dangerous. If I were to see myself, or have someone else see me, it would create holes in the fabric of time. All I could do was bring us to the day after. No clues missing, that way."

John walked towards them, waving a map in his hand. "I found a map, I think we should search around before nightfall."

* * *

><p>A few Avalonians were standing around the food stand, eating what appeared to be miniature pumpkins. The Doctor introduced himself to the man attending the stands to ask about a certain brunette. Sherlock stayed back to inform John on the details.<p>

"So we have no idea where she could be?"

"None at all. Fun, isn't it? I always loved a missing persons case."

"Sherlock, this isn't a missing persons case! She practically fell off the face of the earth- er, planet."

They turned around when the Doctor came back, his face dismal. "He wasn't working here yesterday. Apparently the Avalonian that was here when Clara bought food never showed up for his shift."

Sherlock's eyes lit up in glee. "A mystery within a mystery!" he said almost cheerfully.

"Were looking for _Clara_." John started. "Perhaps the man working the food stands is at home, sick. We can't solve every-."

"John, Sherlock is right," the Doctor interrupted. "Avalonians don't get sick, and they have an extremely long lifespan. It is doubtful he ever got sick, let alone died. I fear that someone is working against us. A very powerful someone." The trio shifted, wary now, to peer over their shoulders.

John breathed slowly, in and out. "Ok, so, what do we do now?"

The Doctor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, when you think power and girl gone missing, what comes to mind? Nevermind, that's too _vague_." He groaned and put his hands to his face in exhaustion.

"Doctor? Sherlock and I could go look for more leads. Maybe there's something we missed. We can all join back here later."

The Doctor didn't move, just muttered through his hands, "Yes, wonderful idea. I need some time alone."

Sherlock left the Doctor in front of the stand to walk back to the main square. John jogged to keep up with his stride. "Did you find anything back there?"

Sherlock looked towards him and then back to the Birdcages that were coming into view. "No. Not yet. I need to visit my mind palace."

He sat down under a shop window and closed his eyes, all the while muttering to himself. John sat next to him, keeping an eye out for anyone that could mean harm.

Sherlock gasped as he came out of his meditation. "Give me your phone." Not waiting for an answer, he fished around in John's pocket and grabbed it triumphantly.

"What are you doing? We don't have wifi here!" John tried to take the phone away, but Sherlock stood up, trying to get a signal. He then dialed a number, and smirked down at John when someone on the other end picked up.

"Hello, this is Sherwood Holme, I recently found your number. Bad Wolf Businesses, if I'm correct?"

John stared up at Sherlock in bewilderment. " ' _Sherwood Holme_?'"

Sherlock put a finger to his mouth as he tried to listen to a response. He looked confused for a moment, then his expression fixed on a certain point in the distance, as if he had remembered something. He slowly bent down to place the phone on the ground. A tinny voice could be heard repeating something on the other end.

"Sherlock, what was it? What did they say?" John asked quickly, nervous about the expression on the detective's face.

"They didn't say anything. It was a recording." He replied stiffly.

"A recording? As in an answering machine?" John picked up the phone, and the voice, or, rather, _voices_ became clear: " 'Human slave trade?'

'It's a Bird Market. For aliens.'"

John dropped the phone in shock. "But those… those are our voices. How is this even possible? We were in the TARDIS when we had that conversation."

Sherlock nodded, " Yes. I don't know how this recording exists, but it does. And it frustrates me that I don't know who wanted us to have it."

John stood up from the ground and dusted himself off. The sky was a dark foreboding navy blue. Levitated, glowing orbs bobbed up and down, acting as streetlamps. He stared up at the sky, which shimmered with different colors. "What I don't understand is why this so called 'Bad Wolf' is targeting us."

Sherlock paced in front of a cage. The bird inside was sleeping, its breast gently moving with every beat of its heart. "Perhaps the point wasn't to target us, but to help us. To remind us of what we said, because it's important. We're missing something, John." He paused in front of the cage, tugging at his blue scarf. "We're missing something big, so big that it's just _staring_ at us right in the face!" He turned, exasperated, and looked into the eyes of the bird he had woken up with his rant. His jaw dropped in awe as something dawned on him. He grabbed John by the sleeve and pulled him towards the cages.

"The birds, John. It's the _birds_."


	9. Chapter 9 Case Solved

~ **_Case Solved_** ~

"We have to find him, Sherlock."

"I know."

"We have to find him _now_."

"Yes, I understand, but I can't bloody see in the dark!" They retraced their steps to the food stand. The alien working there had packed up, and a closed sign was hanging off a nail hammered to the side.

John rubbed his tired eyes and looked around. "Well there was no sign of him at the Market, and he's obviously not here. Anyways, can you clarify what you said earlier about the birds?"

"No, not yet. I want to be sure. That's why I have to find the Doctor. We should check the TARDIS."

Back in the TARDIS, they found the Doctor sitting against the console, reading a manual. "Hello. Find anything while on your stroll?" He put the manual aside and stood up from the floor.

"Yes, we did find something. I called the number from the coffee shop and apparently we were recorded, here, on your TARDIS. Who is this Bad Wolf?"

The Doctor sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I can't tell you who the Bad Wolf is. Sometimes… sometimes I don't even know. What did she record?"

"It's a_ she?" _John asked. "Well that was certainly unexpected."

"Shut up John, I'm about to tell you what you what you wanted to know." He turned to the Doctor. "Is there any where we could sit? This may take a while."

* * *

><p>"When I first stepped onto Avalon, I noticed that, as the Doctor said, it was a sort of 'port planet' where many merchants could come to bargain and trade. For a planet who's main income comes from the bird business, Avalon isn't very green is it? The entire planet is stone, with shops and factories lining the streets. And without an environment for the birds to grow in and thrive, where the hell did they come from? Nowhere, because those birds weren't captured or traded, they were <em>manufactured<em>.

The Avalonians have very colorful skin and hair, ranging from metallic colors to pigments you would only see in gems. They were eating miniature pumpkin-like seeds at the food stand. When we went back to the cages, did anyone else notice what was in the bird feed? The entire planet is conditioning them! Now why, why on earth did a tiny port planet like Avalon get the most beautiful birds in the galaxy? By choosing the most beautiful people, and then changing them, somehow, somewhere, into birds. This isn't a human slave trade. This is a human turned bird trade. _That's_ what the Bad Wolf was trying to tell us. Case. Solved."

* * *

><p>John's eyes grew wide as he linked the final clues. It was quiet for a moment, and then the Doctor spoke for all of them, his voice weary. "Clara…They're going to make her into a bird. And then, they're going to sell her."<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Please Note: Though this chapter is titled Case Solved, that does not mean Wholock: Travels In Time is finished yet. Thank you. <strong>


	10. Chapter 10 Onward to the Past

~ **_Onward to the Past_** ~

Sherlock paced the room they were in, his mind racing a hundred miles per hour. "Right. I need you to bring me to yesterday, before Clara went missing. I wasn't there, so I can find her and tell her to go right back to you and stay there."

"I can't do that, Sherlock, it's risky. If she finds her way back to me, then all of this will never have happened. I could destroy an entire timeline, and then forget it even happened. We wouldn't be able to help anyone. "

"Ok, then, I can tell her to wait for us somewhere. That way you won't be destroying the timeline, only altering it. If I do this correctly, she could be waiting for us somewhere, right now."

The Doctor toyed with his sonic screwdriver. "Fine. Just make sure that I don't see you while in the past."

John held up his hands, "Wait a minute. Am I going too?"

The Doctor and Sherlock looked at one another as if silently communicating. Finally they said in unison, "No."

* * *

><p>Sherlock eyed the Doctor and Clara from around a shop corner. They talked for a while, and then the Doctor handed her a map. Clara set off in the direction of the food stand. He went around another way, hoping to get there before her.<p>

Sneaking up through an alleyway, he saw the stand and searched for the brunette. There was no one. "Perfect," he muttered, and put a grin on his face as he made his way to the man tending the food. "I'll make this quick," he told the alien, and punched him in his ruby colored face. Sherlock bound, gagged, and then dragged him into an empty store. Patting the alien's head, he smiled as he remembered wondering where the Avalonian who hadn't showed up for his shift had gone. He took the cap off the poor man's head, and whistled all the way back to the stand. Clara was there, poking around the odd fruits and vegetables. "I was wondering if I could get one of…" she paused as she took him in; a towering, dark haired human. "You're from Earth!" she smiled, handing him a purple apple.

"Yes." He took the apple, smelled it, and dropped it into a white paper bag.

"That's funny," she said, taking the bag, "I don't think I've ever met another human on an alien planet before."

"Listen, Clara. The Doctor sent me here."

She dropped the bag on the ground and stepped away. "How do you know my name? And how do you know the Doctor? I was just with him."

"Clara, it's very important that you listen to me. You can't go back the Doctor; you need to stay somewhere hidden for two days. Do you understand? It is very dangerous for you if you don't do exactly what I say."

"Where do I hide?" she whispered, moving aside for two Avalonians to view the fruit section.

"It doesn't matter, but at noon the day after tomorrow, you need to be standing here, at the food stand." He left her his scarf, and headed away from the food stand, into the alley.

The TARDIS appeared with a whooshing sound as usual. Stepping inside, Sherlock shivered, something he rarely did, and stood next to the Doctor at the console. "So… how is the fabric of time and space?"

"Still intact, since you and I and John are all here. The concept is a bit... wibbly-wobbly."

"It's mind boggling. Can you believe I've never _really_ known that feeling until now?"

The Doctor smiled. "There's a first time for everything."


	11. Chapter 11 Kidnapped

~ **_Kidnapped _**~

John heard Sherlock slip silently into the room, and into the lower bunk of their bunk bed. He opened his mouth to complain about being left out of the plan, and then thought better of it. He'd be sure to help rescue that girl, no matter what the both of them told him. He'd felt bitter since the beginning of this crazy journey, as well as replaced by the Doctor. They didn't need him; Sherlock had just dragged him along for the ride as usual.

John tossed and turned in bed. He listened to Sherlock's breath slow to that of a sleeping person's. Waiting to be sure that his friend was asleep, he silently climbed down the ladder and grabbed his shoes and a jacket the Doctor had lent him.

Silently stealing across corridors, he reached the console room. The Doctor was nowhere in sight. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and stepped outside, leaving the door to the TARDIS open. A warm breeze swept across his face. In the distance, the glow orbs were bobbing up and down, shining their soft light onto the stone paths. Now what? He'd just been angry with Sherlock, but there was no reason to leave. It would be stupid to wander out there in the dark.

John sighed deeply, and was about to go back inside the TARDIS when he heard footsteps on stone. He turned sideways, and someone swung something hard and painful into his face, blinding him.

* * *

><p>Sherlock strode into the console room the next morning, furious. "Where <em>is<em> he?" he demanded.

"Where is who?"

"John, Doctor, _John."_

"Oh, him. I don't know."

Sherlock groaned in frustration, an emotion he didn't frequent that often. "John was angry yesterday. I knew we should have let him come with me."

"Well, that puts a twist in our plans. I was counting on him as the getaway driver. Guess we'll have to 'wing it', as they say. Perhaps the natives got him."

Sherlock stopped pacing near the dashboard and looked up through his eyelashes. "What did you say?"

* * *

><p>" Let me out of here!" John struggled against his bonds in the darkness of what he assumed was a cell, by the feel of bars against one wall. He'd come to only about an hour ago, and it had been the worst hour of his life. Firstly, because he now had a huge bump on his head where he'd been hit. Secondly, he was on an alien planet with less-than-friendly natives who had probably captured him to turn him into a bird.<p>

"Hello! Anyone!" he called for the hundredth time. Suddenly a door opened and John had to turn from the bright light so as not to burn his eyes. A silhouette walked slowly around, and crouched down to peer through the bars at him. He was surprised when the person spoke with a soft, feminine voice.

"You should get used to it, in there. You won't be seeing much else when we're done with you." John's eyes adjusted to the dim lighted room. The young Avalonian standing in front of him had long silver hair, and her face glowed pearly white. She tilted her face to look at him better, then turned to someone outside the room and started whispering. A guard came in and, to John's surprise, unlocked the cell.

"You're releasing me?" he asked, his face probably the very image of shock.

"I'm taking you to see Arthur."

"Sorry, but I'm not very familiar with him." John replied sarcastically.

"He's the king of Avalon." The guard heaved John up and walked him out of the cell into a marble corridor.

Then she laughed and flipped her silver hair.

"What? What is it, what's funny?"

"He's also my father."

* * *

><p>The Doctor scrambled around the dashboard, pulling and pushing at buttons. Finally a screen lit and he motioned to Sherlock to come closer.<p>

"What is it?" Sherlock asked.

"It's security footage. I added a camera outside of the TARDIS a few months ago. It'll probably show what happened to John.

At first there was nothing on the little screen. Then John stepped out of the TARDIS door. He just stood there for a minute or so, and then turned around to go back inside.

"There, stop!" Sherlock demanded, and pointed to a shadow in the corner of the screen. It was dark, but there was no questioning the person advancing towards John. The Doctor played the rest of the footage. John turned around and the person hit him in the face with a large baton. He was then dragged down the street until the kidnapper and John were off screen.

"He was heading north, up the street. Where were they going? The Bird Market isn't that way." Sherlock muttered, his brow furrowing.

The Doctor pulled the map of Avalon out of his jacket pocket. "You're right. They weren't going to the Bird Market." He laid the parchment across the dashboard, and tapped the drawing of a silver castle, north of the bird market and the street they were on at the moment.

" 'A powerful someone.' " Sherlock murmured. The Doctor nodded; ready to go.

"Come along, Sherlock. We have two companions to rescue, and all before noon."


	12. Chapter 12 The Rescue Part I

~ _**The Rescue Part I **_~

"I'm telling you for the last time_, I am not the Doctor!_" John bellowed. He was on his knees in front of a throne, a guard on each side of him. He couldn't see the face of the King, as it was hidden behind an ironic bird mask. His daughter had been questioning him with a haughty air, a permanent smirk plastered to her face.

_Why are you here, Doctor?_

_What interests you on our planet, Doctor?_

She laughed and muttered something that sounded like "Not the Doctor?" Taking a box from near the trine, she opened it and flung the contents in front of John. It was his jacket and flashlight.

"If you are not the Doctor, then how come your jacket claims you to be its owner?"

The jacket's tag had "Doctor" written on it in neat black writing. John rolled his eyes and flicked the garment away with his bound hands.

"He lent it to me! It isn't my fault if he still writes his name in his clothing."

"I don't believe you. If you weren't the Doctor, you wouldn't have stepped out of the time machine." She smiled when she saw his eyes widen. "Yes, I know all about the TARDIS. Infinite space and time travel. It would be stupid not to know of such power."

It was John's turn to laugh. "Then _you _must be really stupid to think that I am the Doctor. I can't and won't help you. My hands are tied."

"Quite literally, I might add," said a voice from the entrance of the throne room. "You really should be more careful with who you let into this place." The Doctor was striding down the hall, tucking a piece of paper into his coat pocket, Sherlock right behind him. The Doctor had a large grin on his face and was playing around with his Sonic screwdriver as he came nearer to the throne.

The King's daughter looked worried now; clearly this was not part of her plan. She regained her composition however. "This is a royal matter. Who the _hell_ let them in?" she demanded, looking around accusingly at the men near her. A little ways behind Sherlock was a younger guard, his face written with guilt all over it. "I'm sorry, Madam Opal, he said he was the ambassador. He had a paper to prove it!" he pointed at the Doctor, his arm slightly quivering.

"You idiot!" Opal yelled, her pearly face turning a shade of pink. "We don't have an ambassador!" She grabbed an odd looking gun from her belt and raised it at the newcomers, then pointed it at John. She looked at the Doctor angrily. " I suppose he isn't you then."

The Doctor nodded and spoke slowly, as if addressing a child. "Yes, and these are my companions, and I'm the Doctor. Hello!" He waved. Furious at being made fun of, she targeted the gun at the Doctor's fez and shot it, disintegrating the hat into ash with one beam of light.

"Ah, a Disintegrator pistol. Excellent model! My wife had one as well. You two would be great friends."

"I'm not here to make friends. I want your machine."

The Doctor drew closer, and all the guards in the hall raised their guns at the same moment. This didn't seem to bother him. His face was stony now, and John had a feeling that the happy-go-lucky attitude was just for show.

"Listen, I know what you want with my TARDIS, and I know that you're kidnapping innocent people and selling them for a profit. But we're not negotiating today. Today, you are releasing them."

"No more Daddy to make you birds, huh?" John muttered, knowing this sentence would come with punishment. It did, in the form of one high-heeled boot to his stomach. He doubled over and coughed violently. Looking up through the flash of pain, he saw Opal slowly climb up to the throne, and peel the mask off the King's face. John almost threw up when he saw that what he had thought was a living breathing person was actually a corpse, garbed in royal clothing.

The guards suddenly flickered and vanished like holograms. Lasers blinked on and surrounded the Doctor, Sherlock, and John, creating an electrical cage. Opal turned and her face had changed completely. It wasn't the arrogant smirk, or angry glare. It was pale, wild, and worst of all: bloodthirsty. She dropped the mask on the floor. "Oops. I guess Daddy wasn't too keen on my ideas." She shrugged, walking slowly towards them.

"She's mad." John murmured, frightened.

"No, she's a sociopath. We've walked into a trap." Sherlock looked around the grand hall, careful not to touch the lasers.

The Doctor was still pressing his sonic screwdriver, a twinkle in his eye. He said nothing, but smiled.


	13. Chapter 13 The Rescue Part II

~ _**The Rescue Part II**_ ~

_Before finding John:_

The Doctor and Sherlock strode through the crowded market place, following the map towards the Silver Castle.

"So you say you know who lives there?" Sherlock inquired, skirting around a pair of giggling, neon bright Avalonian girls.

"Well, I knew the King. Avalon has been a monarchy for ages, with a sort of council to keep an eye on the royals. Some say this is where the myth of King Arthur and his knights comes from."

"Except Avalon was on a different planet and the King was actually an alien." Sherlock mused.

"Details, details. Anyways, I came here about fifty years ago, and Arthur was fine, really, nothing wrong. Except for his daughter. He said she'd been born… different, or possibly it was an effect of seeing her mother die at a young age. He was afraid that she'd try and take over the throne to pass her radical ideas and such. Arthur asked me to check in on her when she grew a little older, since the council didn't see Opal as a threat at the moment. I never heard from him again. I thought everything had been taken care of. Ah, here we are!"

For a castle named The Silver Castle, it wasn't very silver. The turrets and walls were made of smooth gray stone, with what looked like jade bordering the iron windows, making for a green and grey pattern. There was nothing impressive about the structure, but, then again, there was nothing very impressive with the rest of Avalon. A large wrought iron fence surrounded the castle, where a guard was making his rounds. He was watching the pair of them suspiciously.

The Doctor took something out of his pocket. It was a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Sherlock who flipped it open. "There's nothing inside." He whispered.

"I know," the Doctor murmured back, "just go up to that guard and show it to him."

Sherlock reluctantly went up to the guard. There was a bit of talking, and then Sherlock came back, eyes lit up in a sort of excitement. "He's letting us in."

"Oh, wonderful."

As they walked up towards the castle, the Doctor kept whispering about the King's daughter, Opal.

"She'll have John, of course, probably questioning him about me. She might not look it, but she's incredibly smart and conniving. She'll most definitely have a trap ready. Mmm, yes, now that I think of it; that little Dalek." Sherlock restrained himself from asking what a Dalek was as they approached the entrance and the guard fumbled around his pockets for his keys. They stepped a little ways away so he wouldn't hear them talking.

"If there is a trap ready, wouldn't her father stop her from doing anything of the sort? You said it yourself; he wasn't the type to kidnap people for a profit."

The Doctor sighed heavily and his eyes turned sad for a moment. "I fear that Opal has already finished off her father. Can't you feel it?"

And indeed, Sherlock could sense some foreboding and sadness in the bitter air. Something was not quite _right_…


	14. Chapter 14 The Rescue Part III

~ _**The Rescue Part III**_ ~

_Present Day in Avalon:_

Opal eyed the threesome thoughtfully behind the laser cage. The Doctor stared right back at her, unblinking. She may have had a trap ready for them, but she was still devising as events occurred.

"I'm putting all of you in the dungeon until you give me the TARDIS." She narrowed her eyes, as if she'd been expecting them to protest. No sound came from their mouths.

"Fine!" she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. "Be that way, Doctor. I can let you rot down there with your companions. And even if you manage to escape, I will make sure you'll never leave this planet." She pulled out a small, square object from her belt, and pressed it. The floor under them started to rumble and move downward through a gaping hole in the floor that hadn't been there before. It was like being in an invisible elevator. All John saw before the tile swung upwards and covered them in darkness was the flash of silver hair as Opal turned away from them.

The elevator kept moving downwards, smooth and silent, until they seemed to hit solid ground. The Lasers blinked out leaving them in a cell, two sides of it thick iron bars running vertically. John wondered how it was that he could see this. Sherlock seemed to know what he was thinking and pointed towards a small rectangle shape letting in beams of light. "There's a small window there. We must still be above ground. This is good. If we can just-"

John tuned out Sherlock's talking and looked to the other side of the cell, through the bars. He was still kneeling on the ground, his hands attached by rope. He tried to make out what the slumped shape was on the ground in the other cell. He was snapped out of his thoughts then when Sherlock called his name.

"John. John, pay attention, we're about to break out of here."

"Huh? Pardon, what were you saying?"

"We need to get out of here before she finds out how to use the TARDIS."

John motioned to his hands, tied together in front of him. The Doctor was busy with his Sonic Screwdriver, so Sherlock bent down and after a good minute of struggling with the stubborn rope managed to release John's hands.

"Ah, thank you. That was unpleasant." John rubbed his wrists where the rope had bit into his skin, leaving angry red marks. Sherlock didn't even notice this, he was to busy pressing the cold iron door. He tried picking at it with his keys to their flat in London. _London._ It was so far away, and as distant as a lifetime ago. John felt as if he'd always been traveling with the Doctor.

John reached for the keys before Sherlock could break them. Looking almost defeated, Sherlock handed them over grumpily and leaned against the wall. John suddenly had an idea. "Doctor, why don't you use that, uh, buzzy thing?" He mimicked the Sonic screwdriver's noise.

"Use the Sonic? I know, but I'm already using it."

"What for?" John felt completely and utterly annoyed at this.

"Long story. I'll explain later." He stopped pressing the Sonic and muttered under his breath. He hit the screwdriver against one of the iron bars as if it had stopped working, and then pointed it at the door. There was a high-pitched squeak, and the door flung open. They tumbled out of the small cell, stretching their arms and legs.

"Right, now we just need to do the same with the window, John should go first, he's small-" The Doctor paused, looking around for his companions. They were in front of the other cell, this one with a wooden door rather than an iron one. Sherlock bent down, and retrieved something that was half poking out of the bars. It was his blue scarf. He showed the other two, and then knelt down in front of the cell. "Clara, are you in there?"

A hand groped around in the darkness for one of the iron bars. Clara came into view, her eyes wide and scared. One side of her face was matted in blood. John turned to look at the Doctor. There was no expression on his face, and he didn't move except for a small muscle in his jaw that twitched slightly.

Sherlock got to his feet and eyed her thoughtfully. "You're going to need to back away from the door. Are you ready to get out?"

Clara smiled and turned to look at the Doctor. "Absobloodylutely."

After pulling the other three out, John looked at his surroundings. They were in a hollow, grassy area at the back of the castle. He looked down at his jeans, now stained green. He'd have to wash them when they got home. "_If _we get home," he muttered to himself.

He turned to look at the trio. Sherlock was brushing grass of his coat, the Doctor was back to using his Sonic, and Clara was stumbling around, looking dazed. John's inner-doctor self took over, and he sat her down on the grass. Her knees were scratched, the blood on her head nearly dry. Her pupils swallowed up the brown in her eyes.

"John, we don't have that much time. What do you think happens when Opal looks out a window and sees us _not_ in our jail cell?"

"Sherlock, please. She has a concussion, she needs care." John used the scarf to rub away most of the blood. He addressed her as he took a bandage from a pocket and placed it on her temple. "So Opal found you even when you hid?"

Clara nodded and said nothing, just looked in the distance. There were a few trees here and there. Far away, the buildings started popping up. They lead down to the main square.

"Alright," John motioned for Sherlock to sit down next to Clara.

"I'm fine, John, I don't need a check up." Sherlock took something from his pocket and handed it to John as discreetly as he could. It was his gun.

"Thanks for that, but you _do_ have a gash across your hand." He stood up and took another bandage from his pocket. Luckily, he brought a few everywhere he went.

Sherlock was looking back at the castle. He jerked back suddenly and John looked up at him in confusion. "What's wrong?" he asked.

" I don't mean to alarm anyone, but there's a great metal beast coming towards us."

The Doctor whirled around, Sonic in hand, and spoke for the first time since the dungeon. "Run."

John just barely had time to glance back at what was stalking towards them from the castle. It was a machine, steel and iron, and very, very tall. Under different circumstances, he would have thought it looked like a life sized toy robot. Now he just thought it was going to kill him.

He turned and grabbed Clara from where she was still sitting in the grassy hollow. Together they ran towards the tree line, where the other two were waiting anxiously. Something zapped close above their heads and hit a tree straight up ahead. If they had been any taller, the beam would have killed the both of them. They reached the black fence gate that the Doctor had already managed to open. All four of them ran through it, and a few seconds later they heard the crunching sound of one broken fence as the robot-machine stepped on it. Clara tripped and fell on the dirt road, badly scratching her already bloody knees, and Sherlock fell back to help her up. Just ahead the first shop was coming into view, the dirt road turning into brick and stone.

They turned and stood in defensive positions. The Metal beast was snarling and spitting sparks, slowly advancing towards them. John took his gun from its holster and shot at it, but all it did was bounce off the metal chest. All four ducked for cover to avoid the stray bullet, and then rolled behind a shop corner.

"It's like one of those transformer things from the American series!" breathed John.

"I can't believe you watched that movie!" Clara whispered back fiercely.

"All of you, shut up and run!" the Doctor yelled at them. They shot out from behind the shop and ran, dodging the lasers shooting out from the monsters metal palms. They were close, so close to where the TARDIS had landed. They all skidded to a stop when they noticed that the time machine was gone.

"It was right here! Where could it possibly have gone?" The Doctor paced the ground and searched the horizon with his eyes.

"Doctor…" Clara warned. The beast was getting close, and its aim warmer. All the Avalonians on the street had ducked into shops and homes to avoid the large machine and its beams of killing light.

"There!" They all looked where Sherlock was pointing. "The sewers. It's our only chance of getting away from it."

Pushing the grating aside, they noticed it went down an awful long way, and there were no ladders leading down into the darkness.

John's hands were shaking nervously. Sherlock had already jumped down with Clara, hoping beyond hope that there would be something to catch their fall. The Doctor put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"John, you need to jump. That monster won't be long in finding us. I have a quote I use now and then from the Internet in these circumstances: "'True courage is to keep on traveling when you can't see the map.'"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Geronimo."

John gasped as he felt himself pushed by a hand, and the feeling of air rushing up into his face as he fell.


End file.
